


Next to Me

by Rueitae



Series: Rue's Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Branding, Dehumanization, Emperor Sendak (Voltron), F/M, Gen, Implied Breeding, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Major Character Death is pre-fic, Medical Examination, NO rape, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Sexual Submission, Nudity, POV Lance (Voltron), Past Character Death, Threats of Violence, Torture, implied sexual slavery in the future, last humans alive, no one dies 'on screen', non con is in reference to the medical examination only, this is the bad timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23243419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: "I want my mom," she says quietly. "I want my family, I want our team, I want our friends," she rambles, her voice surprisingly steady though silent tears run down her face, watching the Kral Zera take place as if it seals their fate and that of the universe. None of it seems real, just as the memory of sharing what became their last meal with their team, laughing and promising themselves to make it back home alive."Me too," Lance says, wanting desperately to pour out all his feelings right now and offer more comfort than he’s able while he’s just as scared. "You're so brave, Pidge. Just focus on staying with me, okay?""Okay," she confirms with a shaky nod."Your new Emperor! Sendak!"The bubble bursts. Above, the flame is lit anew and all around them is the sound of thousands of Galra bending a knee.~~~~~Pidge and Lance find themselves in one of the worst timelines.
Relationships: Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt
Series: Rue's Bad Things Happen Bingo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668730
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	Next to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashkazora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkazora/gifts).



> This is for Ashka who requested 'branded' with Lance POV. I'd actually had a few hundred words written up from a year ago and I was super happy that I was able to use this AU for this prompt!

Lance holds Pidge as tightly as he can in his lap, her unending sobs rattling his chest. 

Tears of his own aren’t finished flowing either. 

He nestles his face in her thick hair and curls his fingers into it, grasping for anything to ground him. With his eyes closed he can almost imagine they’re anywhere else but on a Galra battlecruiser. 

Crew scurry around them on the bridge, still operating under battle mode. The evil whine of the ion cannon pierces through the chatter. Lance gasps, looking up too late to see yet another non-Galra ship destroyed through the deck’s forward window. 

“S-top. _Please_ ,” he begs hoarsely, throat long sore from all the yelling and screaming and crying he’s done today. There’s no need to fight any longer, he wants to say, they have what they want. 

No one pays him any mind, or even pretends to have heard him. He is so sick of destruction and numb from all the death that he can’t even muster up any anger at the lack of attention.

The guards behind them aren’t even looking their way, blasters lazily pointed towards them. If there’s half a chance he and Pidge might reach one of the comm stations, at least, _maybe_ , they could save _someone_.

The cannons power down and there’s nothing but empty space, chunks of rock as large as cities floating in the empty vacuum. A feeling of helplessness like he’s never known before seeps into his soul, stomach twisted in knots and gurgling sickly from all the snot he’s swallowed. 

His forehead finds a way to press down into Pidge’s hair before he can think, needing to keep her close. 

“Everything’s going to be fine, Pidge,” he whispers. 

It really isn’t though, he thinks somberly. The acute emptiness of his own words stabs at his heart. 

The Red Lion is gone. So is Green. And Yellow and Black and _Blue_.

And Earth.

It’s easier to comfort Pidge to the best of his ability rather than consider they’re two of only a handful of humans left in the universe, maybe the _only_ two, and consider the fact that they’ve failed spectacularly to save the universe from the Galra Empire. Holding Pidge is the only thing he has right now and even that he doesn’t know for how long. For two Paladins - former Paladins - his mind dares to tremble at what kind of public spectacle they’ll be made into, if not killed right away to the satisfaction of their captor. 

Heavy footsteps approach and stop inches from them. There’s a looming sense of dread and a heavy air that demands respect, but Lance refuses to give it.

Lance knows who it is without needing to open his eyes. Rage resurges in his chest. 

“The mighty Paladins of Voltron,” Sendak says, enunciating each syllable slowly and deliberately while towering over them in stark contrast to their own hunched figures. “At their very lowest point.”

“What do you want?” Lance finds his voice steadier than he feels. “You’ve already taken _everything_.”

The way Sendak smiles - like a predator cornering his prey - sends shivers through his body. 

“Not everything,” he corrects.

Whether Sendak intends to kill one of them and leave the other, take a limb, or take something more personal and emotional, Lance sees red at the implication. The red bayard materializes into a blaster. 

Pidge pushes off from him - her movement surprising him after so long in stillness against his chest. The green bayard forms in her hand as she slams it into Sendak with an angry, primal cry. 

Refusing his cue would be rude. Lance shoots down two sentries that make a beeline for Pidge.

He wants nothing more than to just destroy this entire ship. 

Sendak is taken by surprise at the shock, but it only lasts for a few tics. Lance’s heart goes to his throat when Pidge screams, pinched tightly between metal claws. 

The blaster whines to life, ready for the next shot. “Let her go!” Lance demands with a sob. He can’t lose her… he can’t… he _can’t_ lose anyone else today.

Sendak doesn’t speak for too long to Lance’s liking. “Drop the bayard,” he says, squeezing Pidge ever tighter in threat. 

Before he can form the thought, the red bayard disengages, returning to its base form. That had been their last chance, he realizes. _This_ is what helplessness feels like. The bayard drops to the ground.

In turn, Sendak drops Pidge to the floor, letting her gasp for air. 

Several hands grab him from behind, around his neck, waist, in his hair - taking his bayard. Arms are pinned behind him and he’s forced to the knee. 

“I want the two of you even lower,” Sendak purrs. “With no home, no Voltron, and no allies, you will serve the Empire - serve _me_ \- for the rest of your miserable lives.” His smirk is unkind and euphoric. “Plenty of time to contemplate how you _utterly failed_ to save the universe.”

“I’ll kill you first!” Pidge rages, just getting to her feet before she’s held back by one of the crew, unable to make a single step forward despite tugging and twisting to get free. If not held down so suffocatingly, Lance would have joined her. As it is, he can barely move his head, so he growls in frustration and anger to support Pidge.

Sendak laughs. “You’ve promised that before and failed. Now you will answer to my terms.” He looks to a guard. “Prepare the Paladins to serve their Emperor.”

A chorus of ‘Vrepit Sa’ barely finishes before Lance is hauled to his feet. So quickly he is turned towards the door that his head spins, feet a tangled mess as he falls forward. Only two guards gripping each of his arms provide stability to remain upright. 

Lance already has an awful feeling in his stomach with Sendak’s parting words running through his head as he and Pidge are marched down the corridors. He wants nothing more than to have his good cry, mourn the loss of his family - his _planet_ , his _teammates,_ the _Lions_ \- but as the guards shove him into a room with an examination bed and several medical devices, it seems Sendak won’t allow him even that. 

Pidge yelps, the only warning he has to turn around and catch her stumbling and unbalanced body in his arms. He falls to his knees with her momentum, making sure she won’t hit the floor.

An older Galra enters the room, radiating command. White splotches dot his skin amid thick purple fur.

“Orders, Doctor Azot?"

“Strip them,” comes the curt, dispassionate order. Azot pays Lance and Pidge no attention as he strides immediately to the sink to wash his hands.

The guards rip Pidge from his arms. "No! Let her go!" he rasps. He's ignored, the guards systematically removing his gauntlets, chestplate, and the rest of his armor. Tears creep back into his eyes, fear seizing his heart. More than the idea of being vulnerable in front of the enemy, Lance knows in his heart he's never going to see that armor again. The armor that was given to him by Allura and denoted him a Paladin of Voltron... as if having the Lions ripped from them wasn't enough, now it feels as if his very identity is being peeled away.

"That's mine!" Pidge snarls. The lankier of the guards holds her frames, the last memento she has of her brother, of _anyone_. She shrieks, momentarily distracted as a bulkier guard tears his claw down the back of her flight suit, rendering it useless for E.V.A.

Lance lurches forward, frustratingly held back by his own guard tearing through his suit from the buttox, shredding his boxers in kind. Fear pools in his gut at the reality of the situation, but he's far more concerned for Pidge than his own dignity at the moment.

"Give it back and take your hands off her!" he demands, neither of which any of them look inclined to do.

Stale air hits his nether region first and despite all the terrible things that have happened today that are far worse than this, the young man inside of him flushes with embarrassment at being exposed. His first instinct is to cover himself, but even that option is taken from him as the top part of his flight suit is torn off and his arms held forcibly in the air as if in surrender, leaving him as bare as the day he was born - surrounded by his captors and _Pidge_ to see.

His gaze flickers her way and he immediately regrets it. She's just as naked as he is, shaking like a leaf from cold or embarrassment, anger or fear, he doesn't know. A guard holds her arms up as Azot approaches her.

"These are two of the famed Voltron Paladins, then?" he ponders, using a single gloved finger to move Pidge's chin, examining all around her neck. "A little smaller than I expected."

"Don't touch me!" she snaps when he lifts the first of her breasts in order to view underneath, backpedaling into her guard and receiving no relief. Her voice, though commanding, cracks with fear. Lance tugs against his own guard and is not given even an inch, anger rising seeing Pidge so utterly helpless.

"Patience, patience. I am a physician, not an animal," he scoffs. Pidge squirms and shakes as he forces her legs apart, finger exploring through her pubic hair.

"Fascinating," he says once done. He stands and tears off his gloves, exchanging them for a new disposable pair. "No matter where you go in the universe, biology seems to prefer this upright carbon based form," he muses. Snapping the new glove on, he approaches Lance, looking him up... and then down with a smirk. "And it seems even the sexes work the same."

Lance gulps, looking down shamefully at his erect posture. After all the turmoil today, he should not be turned on like this. He doesn't even care he's naked in front of the evil rulers of the universe, he just wishes it wasn't because he’s seen Pidge, who's lost everything and is suffering just the same as him.

He dares to look her way and catches her staring wide-eyed at his erection. Tearing his gaze away, he looks for anything to occupy his sight, humiliated and desperate to forget the look on her face. Never has he hated his own body more.

The doctor gives him the same exam, which he endures in uncomfortable silence, incapable of cracking a joke and completely unable to look in Pidge’s direction.

Once finished, the doctor pricks his arm with a needle. Lance winces as it draws blood, even though it doesn't hurt anymore than a typical flu shot.

Flu shots don't exist anymore. Did the flu even exist anymore? Just the thought threatens to bring him to tears again.

Nothing will _ever_ be the same.

Azot does the same to Pidge, depositing their blood samples on a small tray near the sink. "I'm finished for now," he declares. "Get them cleaned up and presentable for the Commander."

In the first stroke of good fortune all day, the guards do not parade them down the hallway in their birthday suits - not that birthdays mattered since an Earth calendar didn’t exist anymore either - instead pushing them both through an adjoining door to reveal showers. The guards waste no time turning on the water and shoving them both under the showerhead.

It is freezing.

Lance yelps and Pidge shrieks next to him, barely registering as she bounces up against him. It's the only warm spot on his body.

Soap and something that smells of disinfectant is dumped on his head. It stings in his eyes, and he concentrates on that rather than the cold water that rains down on him.

"Let me go!" Pidge shouts defiantly.

His heart chills faster than the water on his skin. He looks up for Pidge, terrified at the prospect of losing her too. Thankfully she's still there, hunched over with her arms around her chest, her hair being forcefully washed by one of the guards.

"Hey! I can do this myself!" he protests as large hands grab and rub a rag all over his body, giving him the same treatment.

"Commander Sendak does not like to be kept waiting," one of them answers gruffly.

The water runs for several more minutes. Lance holds himself, doing what he can to keep what warmth he has left. When the water stops, he begrudgingly lets his guard dry him off with a towel that’s a bit scratchy, but at least much warmer than the water..

He's shoved against the far wall. "Get dressed," the guard says. It's almost music to his ears. On a chair beside him are garments he recognizes all too well. Shiro had been wearing one when they first found him that fateful night in the desert. The night that doomed them all.

He wonders what they could have done differently. Did they not trust in each other enough? Was their bond not strong enough? Had Voltron simply been outdated compared to the technology of today? Questions he fears he will never know the answer to, but ask for the rest of his life.

Dressing is quick. Pidge does the same, trying so hard to hold back tears. Lance understands. At some point, the anger and hatred for Sendak got pushed aside for fear and humiliation. And Lance doesn't think this is the end of it.

Properly clothed only does so much for his confidence, and he sees it reflected in the look on Pidge's face. While their bodies are covered, they are clothed in a prison uniform. In one short, humiliating span of time, they’ve gone from defeated in battle to just another couple of slaves.

It's hard enough to swallow wearing it himself, but his stomach churns seeing the uniform on Pidge. Had Shiro been alive, it would have torn him apart to see it.

She locks gazes with him for the first time since reuniting on Sendak's bridge. His heart breaks when he sees the defiance flickering out of her eyes, replaced with defeat.

"Hey," he says softly, taking her hand as their guards fiddle with something mechanical. "We've still got each other."

She squeezes it tight. "Don't leave me," she begs.

"I won't," he promises, even though it’s out of his hands. 

Hand still in hers, he doesn’t move as a metal band is locked around his neck. The click feels like some kind of finality of the situation, as if the other far more awful and humiliating things _weren’t_. It’s slightly uncomfortable to gulp, but the discomfort is more from what it represents. A prisoner, and a pet. On purpose, he supposes, feeling sick to his stomach.

The guards tug him forward, dislodging his hand from Pidge’s. Overtaken by panic of being separated, he turns and is relieved only in a twisted way when he sees another guard prompting her in the same direction. She scowls, but there’s a very real fear not far behind her eyes.

Lance isn’t given a chance to reassure her, when the guard grabs his shoulder and prods him on. 

~~~~~

The walk back to the bridge is far more chilling and methodical than the walk from it. The ship drops out of hyperdrive at one point; he hadn’t even realized the jump had _started_. His chest beats uneveningly, gut twisting and turning as he’s relieved…when they arrive, the view won’t be that of a destroyed Earth. 

Just the thought of it makes Lance want to throw up.

His hands shake as they near the entrance, mind racing. What horrible future is about to be bestowed upon them? 

The door to the bridge opens and it is so hard to keep a brave exterior. 

The battlecruiser is descending through an atmosphere of dark grey and purple clouds. Sendak stands at command, back to them, as Lance is pushed forward. The unbalance drops him to his hands and knees. At his side, Pidge falls in the same manner with a grunt.

The whine of the blasters behind him is a clear sign not to attempt to stand.

"In one varga," Sendak says without turning to face them, "I will complete the Kral Zera and become Emperor. In the absence of the Lions, you will be the trophies to show my claim to the throne."

Lance gulps. The tension on the bridge can be cut with a blade. His ears tune out the background noise of the crew seeing to their duties, singularly focused on the sounds coming from Pidge. Her breathing is heavy, caught between the terrible sobs she needs to unleash, unbridled rage, and healthy fear - the same emotions that run through his heart and mind. He hates seeing her like this, but knows there is nothing he can do to ease her pain.

Finally, Sendak turns. He doesn't smile, nor does he gloat, he simply speaks as if discussing business. "It is time for you to be honorable and admit defeat, Paladins. You know the salute; acknowledge the victor."

Pidge sucks in a breath, her face twisting in anger. Lance's eyes widen as he realizes that whatever she's about to say, whatever defiant act she's about to take, isn't going to help keep her alive.

Diving over instinctively, he covers her mouth with his hand in a painful moment of deja vu as she mumbles in frustration and annoyance, just as he'd done the day they rescued Shiro from the crash. They still don't know what exactly Sendak wants from them, and Lance _knows_ this is selfish to implore her to acquiesce to Sendak’s humiliating request... but he cannot afford to lose her. She is all he has left.

"You win," Lance says aloud, Pidge protesting through muffled screams. At the very least, he finds the courage to meet Sendak's eyes, steeling his expression to let the monster know that they may be beaten, but they are not broken. The words come out slow, strange to his tongue, "Vrepit Sa."

It hurts to see Pidge glaring at him, pain and betrayal in her eyes, but he insists for her sake. "Pidge," he whispers, trying to convey that they can fight _later_. "Please."

His heart melts as her eyes soften. He lets her go, sitting back on his heels. It hurts to see her lift a shaky fist and place it over her chest. "Vrepit sa," she says clearly and curtly, to her credit, face still stern and unwavering as she too looks Sendak dead in the eye.

Pidge never ceases to amaze him. She's brave and fearless and whatever might happen, he hopes she never loses that.

Sendak finally smiles, stepping down from the raised command post to approach them. "While it is a pity not to have the Champion here to say it, it is nostalgic to have the two of you before me. I relish in your fealty, though it is a shame all of this could have been avoided if you," he tells Lance, "had accepted your role as hostage. And you," he turns to Pidge, "had surrendered to me immediately. An act that I look forward to punishing the both of you for."

Anger as hot as the fire of the Red Lion surges through him. He realizes too late that a snarl escapes him. "I will _never_ let you hurt Pidge," he promises.

The destroyer of Earth smirks cruelly. "And you will fail, just as you did to protect your loved ones."

Behind Sendak, the site of the Kral Zera comes into view and the ship eases into an atmospheric orbit.

"Ready the drop ship," Sendak orders to the guards behind them, "And load the Paladins."

~~~~~

Even on the surface the atmosphere is tense. The Galra have arrived in droves for the event. Some look at him and Pidge in wonder as they are paraded behind Sendak. Lance adjusts his wrists cuffed behind his back; though they haven't been on long they are already beginning to get sore and uncomfortable. Other Galra look on in jealousy, possibly hoping to take the flame for themselves. Still others snear in their direction.

Lance can only hope it will be over soon. He isn't sure he will ever seek to be the center of attention again.

Sendak takes a torch from one of the baskets at the base of the looming staircase. He makes a grand gesture of showing it off and lighting it.

Lance winces as his knees hit the ground hard, forced down far too many times in the last day. In the search for anything to lift his spirits, he wonders if getting a pair of knee pads would be a good investment. Until he realizes that he can't buy anything, knee pads probably don't exist anymore, and even if he had a pair, they wouldn't really be his.

"Citizens of the Galra Empire!" Sendak bellows. "I bring to you what remains of the Voltron Paladins and their Lions." A roar of cheers echoes through the open air, sending chills down Lance's spine. "Today I reclaim what is rightfully ours, faithfully preserved through Emperor Zarkon over the millennia. May the Empire reign for ten thousand more years!"

As Sendak ascends the stairs unopposed, Lance turns to Pidge. She isn't able to hide the fear and despair in her eyes, but the way she gracefully watches Sendak and doesn't shake or cry in turn calms him.

Despite the thousands of Galra behind them, each one eager to follow whatever orders their soon-to-be Emperor has for them, Lance feels as though he and Pidge are stuck in a bubble on the precipice of chaos, a world all their own for the moment. Gently, he nudges her with his shoulder.

"It's going to be okay," he tells her, mostly trying to reassure himself. "I promised, remember?"

Pidge gulps, nodding. "I want my mom," she says quietly. "I want my family, I want our team, I want our friends," she rambles, her voice surprisingly steady though silent tears run down her face, watching the Kral Zera take place as if it seals their fate and that of the universe. None of it seems real, just as the memory of sharing what became their last meal with their team, laughing and promising themselves to make it back home alive. 

"Me too," he says, wanting desperately to pour out all his feelings right now and offer more comfort than he’s able while he’s just as scared. "You're so brave, Pidge. Just focus on staying with me, okay?"

"Okay," she confirms with a shaky nod.

"Your new Emperor! Sendak!"

The bubble bursts. Above, the flame is lit anew and all around them is the sound of thousands of Galra bending a knee.

In a loud, commanding voice that leaves no alternative, Sendak orders, "Bring forth the former Paladins."

Immediately Lance is hauled to his feet, Pidge's hitching breath and terrified gasp behind him. As Sendak descends the staircase, he and Pidge are made to climb to meet him. The guards force him to stand and turn, now facing the full Galra horde at Sendak's command.

He is terrified, legs feeling like jell-o.

"Let the universe know that today is the beginning of a new era - an era where the glory of the Galra Empire shines _without_ Voltron!"

Lance's heart beats in terror. Sendak is going to kill them. He closes his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. He has so many regrets. He will die a failure, unable to save the universe after playing a so-called hero. He bears the crushed hopes of all the people who placed their trust in him - who died so that he and the others had a chance to defeat the Empire that Zarkon created, all those sacrifices now for naught.

He stands closer to Pidge, who's eyes show that she thinks the same. At least they go together, a small comfort in lieu of dying with the rest of their team.

"Though the Lions are destroyed, Voltron will always be property of the Galra Empire," Sendak continues. "Including the former Paladins."

Sendak steps in front of them as Pidge is forced to her knees. Before Lance can utter a word, the torch is rammed into her shoulder socket. She screams, a terrible blood curdling shriek of terror that tears into Lance's soul. His heart skips a beat when the torch is removed and Pidge is still alive, tears streaming down her face in agony, cheeks flushed.

"That is the least of what you will suffer," Sendak promises her. "I have waited for too long to see that defiant look wiped clean from your face."

In the space between her shoulder and chest the mark remains. Rather than the shape of the torch, he recognizes the symbol that styles Galra ships and decorates every banner. The emblem of the Empire seared deep into her skin.

He's forced to his knees, not bothering to try and hide the frightened look on his face. Sendak isn't going to kill them, he's marking them as property.

And he's next.

"May you serve the Empire well," Sendak says, right before he plunges the torch into Lance's right upper chest.

He screams, overbearing pain shooting through his body both from the stab and the burning. There is no relief to be had as he keels over, heat overwhelming his upper body. His mind goes blank. Though he registers that Sendak has taken the torch out of him, the pain remains. Despite a childhood in the tropics leaving him with a preference for warmth, this heat is too much to take any longer.

His face hits the stairs a split tic before he blacks out.

~~~~~~

Lance dreams of enjoying dinner with his family by the beach, dressed in cotton clothes that let the light sea breeze blow through the threads and onto his skin. He laughs, warmed pleasantly more by their company than the setting sun. One by one the other Paladins arrive and he shares a hug with them all, happier than he’s ever been to show the wonders Earth has to offer. He bites into a garlic knot, relishing in the buttery blend. 

Inexplicably his mouth goes dry, garlic knot gone. Methodical beeps from machines surround him and Lance opens his eyes. 

Bare purple and grey walls greet his groggy eyes and his heart sinks back to reality as his vision comes into focus. 

The bed he lies on is amazingly soft for anything he’s been expecting with room for him to spread out if he wishes - and he could with his arms no longer bound. Purple and magenta linen cover the lower half of his body, head resting on a cushy pillow.

Doctor Azot stands over him, holding something that looks like the end to a stethoscope to his bare chest, moving it above his heart, his abdomen, and finally up against thick bandages that cover his right shoulder. 

Lance hisses. “Ow, owowow,” he moans. 

The doctor pushes him back down roughly when his body tries to sit up instinctively. “The brand will take an annoyingly long time to heal; it’s been twenty varga already and the wound is still fresh. How ever did your race survive from infections for so long,” he mutters. 

“You’re awake!”

He perks up at the familiar and friendly voice, a smile wide on his face despite the pain.

“Pidge!” he says in delight, lifting his head to see her better. She sits crossed legged at the end of the bed, rubbing a bump in her shirt over her left shoulder - bandages for her wound no doubt.

No sooner than he’s seen her, Azot shoves him back down. “The more you move, the more you aggravate the wound. The two of you need to heal as soon as possible.”

Pidge bristles. “What’s the point?” she asks angrily. “All Sendak wants is for us to rot in this cell or parade us around. We don’t have to be healthy for that.”

“ _Emperor_ Sendak,” he emphasizes with a pointed glare towards Pidge, “has authorized the study of several endangered species, including Earthlings.” 

The doctor’s words seem surreal. Emotions conflict with the reason in his mind filing away the new information. They aren’t going to die. Sendak’s original promise of letting them live out the rest of their lives as prisoners is confirmed as truth. The implication of being treated as an endangered species, _animals…_ the term human isn't even part of anyone’s vocabulary but his and Pidge’s anymore. 

Lance feels sick again thinking about all the knowledge, all the history, culture, and people lost.

“If your physiology is anything like the rest of the civilized universe,” the doctor continues grumpily, “then you are already sexually mature. I’ll need more Earthlings, and likely hybrids at this point. The gene pool is far too small with just the two of you.”

Lance can’t breathe, numb at what the doctor is suggesting. Just moments ago seeing Pidge gave him strength; now he can’t stand to look her in the eyes. 

Azot packs up his equipment. “The sooner it heals the sooner the two of you can get started,” he orders as he stuffs the stethoscope into a bag. “I’ve programmed your meals for optimum nutrition based on the blood samples. Make sure to eat all of your _specific_ portions. The aphrodisiac is male enhancing, it will make the Green Paladin ill - in theory.” The bag snaps shut and he walks towards the heavy door. “I’ve instructed the guards to deliver them one varga from now.” 

The thick door opens, and as the doctor leaves one of the guards points a blaster towards them, daring either of them to make a run for it. Once the doctor clears the threshold, the guard shuts it, locking the two of them resoundingly inside. Alone.

Lance wants to be happier at not being separated from Pidge, but he’s too exhausted and too embarrassed to care much. 

The quiet is deafening. He begins to shake. Here in the low light of this prison cell is the first moment he’s had to just think without the immediate terror of the situation. 

“Is this real?” he wonders aloud, knowing full well the answer. 

Pidge breathes in deep, choking on a sob that pierces the otherwise silent room. “I wish it wasn’t.”

Neither speaks for a while. All the words he’s wanted to say to Pidge once they were alone don’t come. He hadn’t even known if they would have this time alone… but knowing that he and Pidge have this room to share is no small comfort. Any other time, the idea of sharing a room or even a bed with Pidge - with any girl - would have made him flush in embarrassment.

Right now, he struggles with wanting to cling to Pidge and never let go, and giving her space with the revelation of what might come.

What probably _will_ come, unless the doctor loses interest.

"Pidge," he starts, sitting up on his forearms, needing to say something. She's the only friend he has, the only other human left in the universe, and he refuses to let it become awkward between them. "I don't care what that crazy doctor wants, I stand by what I said. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, and that includes me."

Before saying anything, Pidge moves closer to him and drops to her side, wrapping her arms around his waist. He doesn't need the low light to see her shake; he feels her barely contained sobs.

"I know," she tells him. 

He lies back down on the pillow. As he wraps his arms around her shoulder she moves closer, nestling her head in his chest.

She cries, tears sticky against his skin. Lance just listens for a while, but the more he reflects on everything that has happened - the fact that he'll never see his family again, the ion cannons they didn’t see coming as he and the others scrambled to destroy the Zaiforge cannons, the screams of his friends as their Lions broke apart and smashed into the soon vaporized Earth, the Coalition surely in shambles. The fact that he and Pidge are the last humans in the entire universe, that the two of them are prisoners of the very Empire they fought against and a slave to the Galra who destroyed their home planet and their lives - it's too much, and tears of his own fall. It's one thing to see the atrocities committed by Zarkon, but a whole other to be subject to it. Lance can scarcely wrap his mind around the fact that this is the new normal, that from now on he has no control over even what food he eats and agonizingly aware that Sendak can have him and Pidge killed or tortured at a whim.

He runs his fingers through her hair, grasping to the physical proof that she’s here with him.

It doesn't make everything right, but holding Pidge and knowing he at least has her with him is healing in itself, no matter what might come. 

The door eventually opens again. Years of having to be on edge override the comfort and warmth of snuggling and he props himself up to see a guard wheel in a tray with two dishes on it. 

“The one on the bottom is for the Green Paladin,” he says gruffly, leaving and locking the door shut once again. 

Lance sucks in a breath. “I don’t know if I’m hungry,” he says. 

Drying the tears from her eyes, Pidge sits up. “We can use it,” she reasons, far more calm than before. She sits back against the wall. “Things we do know. One, Sendak is keeping us alive. Two. Doctor Azot is meticulous, a real scientist. We can learn meal timing and guard rotations assuming this is where they’ll keep us.” She bites her lips. “The Galra Empire was rigid even when Zarkon was in charge. Over time, we’ll learn a schedule. It might take years,” her breath hitches, “but maybe we can get out of here one day.”

Something akin to pride flutters in his chest. He’s been so down on himself that making an honest escape attempt hasn’t even crossed his mind. For Pidge to have worked past not just the same cruelty that he’s experienced, but have breed- quiznak just thinking about what the doctor wants to do to Pidge makes him ill - to have the extra weight hanging over her and rationally think about the probability of an escape from Sendak reminds him of everything he loves about Pidge. How smart and practical and reliable she is.

“Pidge, you’re amazing,” he says. “I both love and hate the fact that you’re here with me.”

Pidge shifts uncomfortably, ruffling the sheets of… of _their_ bed, eying the tray of food. “We should eat,” she says in an obvious attempt to change the topic. “Keep up our strength. We really don’t know what Sendak might fancy to do to us.”

The bed moans as Lance leaves it, the loss of warmth from the blankets reminds him that he’s still shirtless. 

“S-sorry, I forgot,” he stammers, reaching into the sleeves of the top part of the one piece uniform that dangles from his waist. 

“We’ve seen each other naked,” Pidge says cooly - or tries to anyway as she pointedly looks away from him. Lance doesn’t miss the hitch in her voice. “And I’ve seen you undress in the Garrison locker rooms and the Castle showers more times than I can count. Lack of a shirt is no big deal.”

“Oh,” is all Lance can find to say. A small part of his ego that still exists is disappointed, a feeling he immediately chastizes himself for. Just because he and Pidge are the last humans alive anywhere does not entitle either of them to form something physical, despite what his body thinks. Lance doesn’t deny he loves Pidge and it's not a stretch of the imagination that he can grow to love her romantically. She’s amazing and brilliant and a good friend. Even before their lives were ruined, he couldn’t see his life without her.

But a tiny part of his heart grasps the idea of a romance with Pidge and now he can’t get it out of his head. He berates himself, no way, no how is he going to burden her with such fleeting feelings. He loves her too much to put that kind of pressure on her. They’re in too awful of a situation for any sort of confession to sound genuine. 

Even he’s not sure of how genuine his feelings are, not with his track record. 

He picks up the tray at the bottom and hands it to Pidge on the bed. “Bon appetit,” he says with a crooked smile that quickly falls. “I guess we’re the only ones who know what that means now.”

Pidge lifts the lid to reveal a depressingly simple packet of food goo. Her arms fall to her sides limply, looking like she’s about to cry.

“We’ll get out of here,” he promises, sitting back down on the bed and taking her hand in his, reiterating her own idea back to her, just wanting to feel just a little better. “

Pidge looks him dead in the eye, a glossed over look in her own. “Of all the people in the universe to live out the rest of my ruined life with, it had to be you,” she says as her lip wobbles. Lance braces himself for the fact that she wishes she had anyone else here but him, hating the fact that he visibly winces.

Food goo packet tossed aside, Pidge wraps her arms around his neck. “I’m so sorry I never told you how much I appreciate you. Please don’t hate me.”

“Pidge…” he says softly. Hugging her back only makes her sob harder. 

“I hate all of this,” she cries. “I hate Sendak. I hate _Voltron_ for even landing on Daibazaal in the first place. I hate that everyone I love is dead except for the _one person_ I’ve had a crush on this entire time!” Lance’s heart skips a beat at the revelation, but she continues before he can say anything.

“All I can think about” she stresses, speaking faster and faster, “Is when I _killed_ Haxus and then told Sendak I was coming for him _next._ I hate not knowing what he’s going to do to me, _or_ you.” 

Pidge sobs into his shirt, unable to speak any longer. 

Lance isn’t sure if he feels better or not, knowing that not only does Pidge like him, but had for a long time. His mind is too numb to consider how she came to feeling this way. All he’s sure of right now is that Pidge is hurting just like him. Gently, he buries his face in her beautiful thick, messy hair and leaves a kiss on her scalp in answer to her confession.

“I love you, Pidge.,” he confides as his voice cracks, amazed he isn’t back to tears himself. He’s probably shed all he can.

“You don’t really mean that,” she says, the way she usually bites with a remark like that absent in place of just heartbreak. 

“I _do_ mean it,” he says firmly, holding her tighter. “Just like I still love my family and our friends. Don’t sell yourself short, Pidge. The place you have in my heart has always been big...even if I never really realized how much until now.”

His words give way to a moment of silence for all those they have lost, all quiet but for Pidge’s hiccuping sobs. “Where did we go wrong?” Pidge cries into the crook of his neck. 

“I don’t know,” he says. “We c-cant change it though.” He gulps. “They’d want us to move on and do what we can. We’re still Paladins,” he says with surprising strength. Just calling himself a Paladin invokes a surge of pride and purpose. 

Pidge pulls away, a renewed glint in her eyes - a spark of herself before Sendak ruined everything. “We can still fight back, even without the Lions,” she says with determination, juxtaposed with the tears just behind her eyes. “We may not have _our_ families, but there are millions of others still out there that Sendak is going to keep hurting unless someone does _something_. We owe it to them to try, even if we’re scared.” She lowers her eyes. “Hunk taught me that.”

“We have to stay fierce, like Keith,” Lance adds, speaking the name postmortem odd on his tongue. It feels necessary as soon as he says it, like invoking the names of their teammates will give them the strength to carry on.

“Shiro survived a year of Galra captivity and showed us how to never give up,” Pidge says. “We have each other. Keep Sendak happy and lure him into a false sense of security and we _will_ get him.”

Lance nods, a knot in his throat at the last names. “For Allura and Coran. They deserved so much more.”

Pidge’s hands shake as she nods, clearly trying to maintain a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’re sweet when you’re encouraging, Lance. That’s why I like you.”

“For a while, huh?” he wonders aloud. Desperate for a topic other than their current horrific situation. “You’re cute when you talk mushy, Pidge,” he says, reaching for his own food, which is predictably another food goo packet. “You should do it more often.”

Her cheeks turn red, a far better look on her in opposition to the fear and tears. “Y-you don’t have to flirt with me,” she stammers. “Just because I’m the last human girl in the universe… Quiznak,” she mutters, lifting the purple rag that drapes over the top of her suit over her face. “This is so _wrong_.”

“Maybe,” he admits fearfully, fiddling with his food goo packet. “But we’re all we have right now. I care about you a lot and I always _have_. I want to do whatever is going to make us happy, we can use all we can get,” he ends somberly.

He looks up, meeting her eyes. “What do _you_ want, Pidge?”

Following his lead, she grabs her own wayward food goo packet, leaving a prolonged moment of silence before she answers. “Right now, I just want you next to me.”

Lance shuffles to the other side of the bed, plopping down with his back against the wall, right next to Pidge just as she asked. He holds out his food packet as if it were a wine glass. “Let’s see if this stuff is any worse than the first time we tried it?”

Pidge slumps against his side, but this time there’s a small smile on her face. “Here goes nothing.”

The two of them rip open their packets and take the first tentative slurp. Lance twists his face in disgust. It’s like an awful mix between mashed potatoes and rubber, completely bland on top of it. “It’s awful,” he moans. 

Pidge laughs, her voice almost melodic amidst the somber situation. “Yeah, so is mine.”

Nothing else matters in that moment but the chuckle of his own that turns into a full on laugh when Pidge can’t stop laughing, her glee egging him on so that he can’t stop either. 

It feels so good to feel a small amount of joy when almost everything else has gone horribly wrong. He’s got Pidge and a comfortable place where they can be private and be themselves. Whatever might come from being stuck in this room, it’s more than a temporary relief from whatever awaits them beyond the bolted door. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/).


End file.
